


good morning sunshine

by earlgrey_milktea



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: Abe wakes up late, but that's okay, because breakfast can be eaten anytime with the one you love!





	good morning sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for [oofuri xmas secret santa](http://oofurixmas.tumblr.com/) for [@shslshortie](https://shslartie.tumblr.com/) who wanted ABEMIHA and anything mihashi; i hope this satisfied your cravings!! i'm very weak to abmh and sunshine birb mihashi, and i wanted to write something soft to start the new year. happy holidays, i hope 2019 brings you lots of warmth and softness~

 

It’s late when Takaya blinks awake. 

Afternoon sunlight shifts against the open blinds. He must have been really tired, sleeping through the opening of those blinds and the brightness streaming in. But it’s the weekend, a well-deserved day off, so Takaya allows himself to lie there a moment more. Eyes drifting closed again, he listens to the sounds travelling through the apartment, muted through the half-closed door.

There are faint sounds of a car rumbling by out the window, birds chirping, neighbours talking on the street below. The sound of the neighbourhood going about their business, the world continuing to turn even while he’s not paying attention. There’s the low hum of the air conditioning on the far wall. The pitter-patter of Tamago’s paws making their way down the hall. A familiar soft murmur—Mihashi, holding a one-sided conversation with the dog as he moves around in the kitchen. 

Takaya stretches. These sounds are familiar, comfortable: the sounds of home.

Eventually, he manages to drag himself out from within the big, fluffy blankets that Mihashi likes so much. In the beginning, Takaya hated it; it’s hot and heavy and he’d end up tangled within them every morning without fail. But Mihashi, for all his stuttering and nervous fluttering that he never really grew out of, has enough stubbornness to go head to head with Takaya’s own, and Mihashi chose this as a battle he needed to fight, so Takaya tried. And it turned out that Mihashi is right—the blankets are extremely comfortable come the chilly months, so comfortable that Takaya was late for an entire week.

He tosses on the nearest sweater he can find, a soft maroon draped over the beanbag in the corner—a joke gift from Izumi that turned out to be a favourite place to curl up on rainy nights. Probably Mihashi’s, but at this point, neither of them are really keeping tabs which side of the closet they’re wading through. He wastes some time searching for his glasses on the bedside table. There’s a voice that sounds suspiciously like Mihashi’s in his head scolding him for not taking better care of his things. 

When he finally wanders into the kitchen, a yawn still working its way out, Mihashi has his back to him with something sizzling on the stove. Tamago perks up at the sight of Takaya but doesn’t leave her spot at Mihashi’s feet. He’s always been her favourite. Takaya leans against the island counter and watches Mihashi hum as he pokes at the fish he’s grilling.

“Smells good,” he says.

Mihashi startles, but his hands are steady. He turns and beams.

“Takaya-kun,” he says. “You’re awake!”

“You could have woken me up.”

“You looked tired, though.”

Takaya rubs the back of his head. “Yeah, guess I was. Thanks. Do you need help?”

He watches Mihashi trade a look with Tamago. They both peer back at him in slight concern. Takaya holds up his hands. 

“I can just set the table,” he says, “if you’re that worried about food poisoning.”

Mihashi gives him a sheepish smile. “Maybe you can help me with the tamagoyaki later.”

“I’m okay with that.”

Mihashi turns back to the stove, flipping the mackerel over. There’s a second one waiting by the sink. The rice cooker beeps, so Takaya makes his way over to check on the rice. He flips the rice to let it breathe and shuts the lid. It smells warm and delicious. His stomach rumbles a little.

They plate the fish and let it cool with twin bowls of rice. Tamago huffs underneath the eating table. She seems content to curl up by the chair legs, so Takaya leaves her be. He helps mix the egg yolk while Mihashi chatters on about his conversation this morning with the nice old granny who lives in the apartment underneath theirs. This is a familiar rhythm. Takaya doesn’t bother hiding the fond smile tugging at his lips.

Soon, they’re both settling into their chairs, chopsticks in hand. A saucer for Tamago next to the table. A plate of grilled mackerel, a bowl of steaming rice. Seaweed sauce and pickled vegetables for sides, and a plate of freshly made tamagoyaki to share. They clap their hands and say  _ itadakimasu  _ and then dig in. 

“What do you want to do on your day off?” Mihashi asks. There’s a grain of rice stuck at the corner of his lips. He doesn’t notice, staring at Takaya with those big brown eyes. Takaya isn’t fifteen and just realizing how sunshine can burn in the shape of a boy, but he can never deny how weak he still is to that open, curious gaze.

“I’ve already slept through most of it.”

“But you still have the rest of the afternoon!”

Takaya hums. He reaches over and swipes his thumb over the grain of rice. Mihashi leans forwards to grant him easier access.

“Will you keep me company?”

Mihashi smiles at him. A sunrise, all his own. 

A small whine catches their attention. Tamago puts her paws up on Takaya’s knee.

He looks up at Mihashi. Mihashi looks back at him. His mouth twitches. And then they’re laughing, over and easy, sunny side up.

“And Tamago, too!” Mihashi says, reaching down to pet her. “We didn’t forget about you, don’t worry.”

Takaya lets out a huff of laughter. He breathes out, a long exhale that leaves him loose-boned and satisfied. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> talk gentle baseball boys at me @puddingcatbae on tumblr/twitter!!


End file.
